


Up Off the Floor

by The_Word_Arranger



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Word_Arranger/pseuds/The_Word_Arranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Encke is tired of waking up on the floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up Off the Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... This is my first ever fan-fiction and there are many things wrong with it, but it makes me happy and I guess that is what counts. Hopefully it will make someone else happy too! It is not beta-ed so I claim all the mistakes in the name of me. Constructive criticism in encouraged.
> 
> There are some bad words and lovely suggestive situations but nothing hardcore. 
> 
> I feel like the characterization is rather flat but I'm not entirely sure how to fix that given how little we actually know about Encke and Keeler. Hooray for artistic license. :) I definitely want to write them more because there just isn't enough love for them around.
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> All love to HamletMachine!

Encke woke up in the split second before he hit the floor. 

He sat up and rubbed his throbbing right hip where he had taken the brunt of the fall. Third time this week and it was only Thursday. This was getting ridiculous. 

He turned his head and glared through the darkness back towards the single bed where Keeler slept on. Keeler rolled onto his back, bringing all the covers with him and stretched out in the middle of the bed. He sighed happily in his sleep and cuddled down, completely oblivious and unrepentant of the fact that he had just literally kicked the lead Fighter of the Sleipnir out of bed. Again. 

Encke made a face and wondered how many of the other Fighters he oversaw everyday had managed to work their ways into their Navigator’s beds, only to get shoved out again in the middle of the night. He paused for a moment to imagine how the Mess Hall Rumor Mill would explode if even the tiniest hint of this situation made its way past their quarter’s door and decided that his pride was more important than his curiosity. Besides, he could just pretend that all of them suffered the way he did. It would probably make it easier to yell at them during physical training if he could picture them getting kicked around by their Navigators. 

Who was he kidding? This was humiliating. 

He contemplated crawling into his own single bed across the room. It was not an enjoyable prospect. It would be cold and probably a little dusty. He hadn’t really been sleeping in it much, although he reflected, he didn’t spend much time sleeping in Keeler’s either. He sighed, got up off the floor and slipped back into Keeler’s cramped bed, grabbing the covers from where he was hoarding them again. Keeler made a sleepy noise of protest and kicked Encke in the shin. 

Encke gritted his teeth and promised himself that he would do something about it tomorrow.

*

Tomorrow came early and obnoxiously bright when all the lights in their quarters came on at 0600. Keeler was up immediately, cheerful and humming to himself as he attacked his ferocious bed head with a brush. Encke dragged himself out of bed and glowered at Keeler’s back; of course he slept well, he didn’t wake up on the floor in the middle of the night. Keeler saw the look in the mirror, and raised an eyebrow at the unusually sour look his Fighter was gifting him with.

“You kicked me out of bed again last night,” Encke supplied.

“Oh. Oops…?” Keeler smiled a little guiltily and returned to braiding his hair.

This did not appease Encke’s wounded dignity one bit. 

*

When Keeler left, Encke took some time to look about the room. It was bigger that the tin cans that they shoved most of the other people into. It was a nice perk of being the Lead Fighter, even though that title and the responsibilities that came with it meant that he spent less time in his own quarters than most. There were two single beds on opposite sides of the room, a dresser and a long desk with two terminals. He thought about shoving the beds together but dismissed the idea just as quickly. Keeler would end up with his ridiculously thin body wedged in the crack when the mattresses inevitably slid apart and being trapped like that would only make him flail about more. Maybe there was an extra double bed like the ones they had in the medical bay floating around in storage somewhere. It was worth checking out.

*

Maintenance and Supplies was on one of the lower decks and the lift took its sweet time to get there. Encke spent the boring ride staring at the wall and wondering what it must be like to be a maintenance worker on the Sleipnir. They were scheduled to enter Colteron territory the day after tomorrow and while he was tense, he knew that he and Keeler were ready. Their individual skills and the harmony with which they meshed them were comforting even if, he sighed, it did not apparently extend to their sleeping arrangements. At least he would be able to do something when the bug-headed idiots showed their ugly faces. Imagine risking your life by going into enemy territory on a ship where your function was to repair burst pipes and clogged toilets. 

He finally found the maintenance room and the chime that went off when he crossed the threshold apparently woke the worker sleeping on the front desk. Encke walked up to him, opened his mouth, and realized he had no way to phrase his request without sounding incredibly awkward. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself and squared his shoulders. The fighters he commanded were barely house trained; one half-awake maintenance worker was nothing in comparison.

“I need a change of furniture in my quarters,” Encke started.

The maintenance worker took in Encke’s black Fighter uniform, sighed and brought up the correct input screen on his terminal. “What did you break?”

Encke glared at him before replying, “Nothing. Do you have any spare double beds?”

The worker tapped at the screen a few times before nodding. 

“Good. Put in a work order for someone to pull the two singles out and put that one in.”

The maintenance worker raised an eyebrow. “Sir? Those beds are usually reserved for the medical and quarantine bays.”

Encke would be in the medical bay pretty soon if he didn’t get a decent night’s sleep.   
“Did I stutter?” 

“No sir. Right away sir,” the maintenance worker replied. Hell, he did not get paid enough to get between a Fighter and what he wanted, especially not this early in the morning. 

“That’s what I thought.”

*

The rest of the day went by in a haze of predictability. Breakfast, physical training, reports to Commander Bering, lunch, then overseeing simulations of the new Starfighter crews they picked up from the outpost base. The Reliant team showed great potential, but the Fighter, Cain, needed to knock off the bullshit posturing and get it together. Encke took note of the black eye and split lip and decided that interference was called for. He expected some in-fighting as the new Fighters integrated into the Sleipnir’s hierarchy but enough was enough. There was only room for one alpha dog on this ship and that was him. No one gave him attitude or pushed him around; no one except Keeler who routinely shoved him out onto the floor in the middle of the night.

*

Encke met up with Keeler for dinner in the Mess Hall and discussed the tune-ups that were being made to the Equinox after the test flight a few days ago. He kept an ear open for random gossip, but it was mostly concerned with a prank that seemed to involve some of his Fighters, the Navigator common room, several portable fire extinguishers and the powdered orange stuff that the Mess Hall mixed with water and dubiously labeled orange juice. He would have to investigate what stupid shit his Fighters were getting into, but for now he was reasonably certain that the information on his bed change had not migrated up from the maintenance deck yet. Keeler certainly said nothing, and the man had an ear everywhere. It was that face, Encke decided, that put people at ease and made them spill all kinds of information. He was certainly guilty of that himself. 

He let his mind wander back to all the different lovely faces Keeler had made last night while they were alone together and started planning how he would go about eliciting a repeat performance tonight. Keeler’s collarbones were looking a little neglected and lonely. He would wrap Keeler up in his arms before pulling back on that so soft fair hair and then… 

Keeler cleared his throat in a manner that let Encke know he had been caught staring, but the little blush appearing high on Keeler’s cheek bones let Encke know that it was not the staring but the public location that he minded. The simultaneously collected their dishes and adjourned to their quarters. 

*

Keeler entered the room first and stopped short, causing Encke to walk into him.  
“Someone appears to have rearranged our furniture,” Keeler sounded amused. “I think the Fighters are getting a bit of cabin fever if this is the sort of prank they are resorting to, don’t you think.”

Encke paused on his way into the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what response he had expected, but that definitely wasn’t it. “It wasn’t a prank. I went to Maintenance and Supplies this morning and had them switched out for that bigger one so that I have a prayer of remaining on the bed when you start attacking me in your sleep sweetheart. You’re damn violent for a Navigator, you know.”

Keeler looked abashed but the explanation did not remove the confusion from his face. He stepped up to the edge of the bed and cocked his head to the side as if studying it from this new angle could force it to spill its secrets. Encke returned to standing behind him but he was more fascinated with the bit of Keeler’s neck that the head movement revealed than with the bed. Keeler’s neck and shoulders were usually relaxed and deliciously curved with his lean muscling, but now Encke could see the tension there. He took a moment to observe the situation from Keeler’s point of view and realized that he should have asked before altering something as personal as his partner’s sleeping arrangements. Encke was a forward man of action but, damn it, he was not supposed to be this insensitive.

“I can have them change it back if you want.” Encke wasn’t great at apologizing but Keeler was good at reading between the lines.

“No. It’s okay. I was just surprised is all. I was over-thinking things again but it doesn’t matter.” Keeler made a dismissive little hand wave and gave an attempt at a laugh that didn’t fool Encke one bit. Something was wrong. Keeler swallowed audibly before he began speaking again.

“It’s just, um, I know that we aren’t the only Starfighter partners to be …intimate. I listen to the rumors and I hear what my Navigators say to each other when they think I’m not around. It’s hardly surprising to me; I think it is natural to want to be close to someone that you routinely trust with your life.” Keeler fell silent as if he didn’t quite know how to continue.

“But…” Encke promted.

“But it always seemed like something reserved for moments behind closed doors. Like it’s just something that happens and then you go back to normal, sleeping in your own bed, no strings attached. I thought it was a matter of convenience and I told myself that I was okay with that, but this seems like it might be something more.” Keeler looked sad. “I told you I was over-thinking things again.”

Encke wanted to kick himself. He had never bothered to tell Keeler why he ended up in his bed so often because he thought the man understood. Also, he sucked with words and feelings and all that crap. They had been together for how many years now? He should have realized that Keeler, with his penchant for data gathering, would have deduced the existence of the casual intimacy that other partners shared and come to the wrong conclusion about Encke’s overtures. And Keeler was the type, Encke grimaced to himself, that would set aside his own feelings to ensure the happiness of others. God he felt like such an asshole.

Encke stepped forward until his front pressed all along Keeler’s back, curling his left hand around Keeler’s waist and resting his right along the front of Keeler’s thigh. He leaned his head forward and down the few inches it took to reach his Navigator’s ear and resisted the urge to nibble it before he spoke. 

“I guess I can understand how you could think that. Personally, I have never considered what we have together to have any kind of shit to do with anyone else. And don’t go thinking I’ve been crawling into bed with you ‘cuz it’s easy. You aren’t like that. ” He trailed off, his Fighter upbringing hindering him from expressing himself further.

Keeler let out a breath that Encke hadn’t known he was holding. “Not a matter of convenience then,” he murmured. It wasn’t really a question, but he got an answer anyway.

“I thought you knew baby.”

Keeler turned himself in Encke’s grasp and smiled up at him. It was a very beautiful smile, Encke reflected; definitely a different caliber than the ones that Keeler normally gave him. He could get used to being smiled at like that as long as it didn’t make him do stupid things like smile back, at least not in public. He didn’t think his pride could take it. Thinking about his pride and how it suffered when he woke up on the floor brought him back to where he was and he sat down on the edge of their new bed. He was beginning to feel a bit put out that Keeler had managed to wheedle a declaration of sorts out of him and then not bothered to return one, but the way Keeler crawled into his lap and kissed him made him think that the feelings were mutual. 

Encke let himself get a little lost in the kiss, but he eventually managed to put enough brain cells together to remember that there were collarbones needing his attention. He removed his hands from where they had attached themselves to Keeler’s ass and started working on the collar of his white jacket. “So the bed is okay then?” 

Keeler smiled, and then giggled a bit when Encke’s eyes crossed as Keeler curled his index finger and bopped Encke on the nose with it. “Yes.” His smile turned mischievous and Encke’s Fighter suit was suddenly much too tight. “Who knows, maybe a bigger bed will have other advantages too.” Keeler settled himself so that he was straddling   
Encke’s lap more comfortably and bit his own bottom lip in faux embarrassment. “You want to test it out?” 

Encke nodded and kissed Keeler again before pulling back and narrowing his eyes at him. “Only if you promise not to kick me out again.”

Keeler just laughed at him.


End file.
